


Happy Violence

by Iridium (IridiumFlames)



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, basically they fuck but it's emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 08:17:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IridiumFlames/pseuds/Iridium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You had steeled yourself, squirming yourself onto John’s chest before whispering your proposal to him– and John had frozen. He’d looked blankly at you in shock before pushing away, almost panicked as he had scrambled over to the table. He’s still sitting there, staring at you warily; was he shaking? You flop down across from him, gesturing frustratedly and trying not to seem annoyed by his reaction. </p><p>“Look, I’m just asking you to try it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Violence

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to circumcisionkink on tumblr! About two months ago I tried writing pointless smut in their inbox and failed because I accidentally gave it a plot and emotions
> 
> As far as motivation goes- everyone seems to write John and Dave as super-kinky with no explanation or lifetime BDSM buddies who are already deep into a dom/sub relationship and I dunno; it just seemed like there was not much written where they were just getting into it, and reacting the way most people would when first hearing about bondage things.
> 
> Also it's not actually violent, I just couldn't think of a title and I've been listening to [this song](https://soundcloud.com/swatdojo/happy-violence-swatdojo-remix) recently and it sort of vaguely fits, whoop whoop, anyhow enjoy my sappy-ass porn

“You want me to WHAT?!” John stalked over to the dining table, trying to avoid what was quickly turning into a painfully unpleasant argument.

You follow him over to the table with a sigh, not meeting John’s eyes. This afternoon was not going the way you had planned. John had gotten off work a few hours ago, and at your perfectly timed request, he had picked up vegetables for the stir-fry you’d both had for lunch. It was one of his favorites; you had added a bit of honey to the sauce the way he liked, and even offered to wash the dishes. When John wiggled into one of his ratty ancient sweatshirts and lazily spread out on the couch, he had wrapped you up in his arms and you had thought this discussion might hardly be a discussion at all. 

But you had steeled yourself anyway, squirming yourself onto John’s chest before whispering your proposal to him– and John had frozen. He’d looked blankly at you in shock before pushing away, almost panicked as he had scrambled over to the table. He’s still sitting there, staring at you warily; was he shaking? You flop down across from him, gesturing frustratedly and trying not to seem annoyed by his reaction. 

“Look, I’m just asking you to try it. You tie my hands up, I get a gag, and everything else is 100% vanilla sexytimes. Not even the fancy French vanilla or that weird Mexican one– this is just plain-ass boring vanilla apart from this one little thing, and you’re throwing a massive bitchfit over it.” John, always subtle, rolls his eyes and glares at you. 

“I am not throwing a bitchfit! But Dave, what the hell? I am not tying you up like some kind of, I don’t know, some rapist– you’re my boyfriend! Why would I want to tie you up?” He leans back, throwing his hands up accusingly. “And how is that even supposed to be sexy?”

“You ass, I just explicitly asked you to do this, how does that even vaguely resemble a rapist. This is literally all I want, I’m not asking you to whip me and piss on my face or something.” Perhaps you shouldn’t have said that. John is now staring at you as though you’d grown another eye.

“Ugh, fuck. You’re just _weird_ sometimes, you know that, Dave?” Well. That hurt more than you’d thought it would. 

You slump over, avoiding John’s eyes. It wasn’t bad to like the things you did; you know that. But a small part of you had been hoping, whispering “maybe,” and you hated to admit that you’d been planning this afternoon for at least a week. Maybe John would go along with it. Maybe John would even love the idea. Maybe he wouldn’t think it was weird. You open your mouth, about to suggest that neither of you bring it up again, when John speaks suddenly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.

“But– okay, why? Like, is this some weird control issue, or do you want me to– order you around even when we’re not having sex, or what?” He’s fiddling with one nail hesitantly, and you think you hear the tiniest bit of understanding, or at least guilt at having upset you. You straighten up and attempt to make your thoughts form words.

“No, you dick. I just like the idea a lot. It took a lot to admit that I liked it at all, okay? And I _thought,_ ” you glare at John, “that you wouldn’t be such a magnificent douche as to ride my ass over wanting to try it out.”

You fold your arms, looking down uncertainly. “It’s only the tying-up part, alright? It’s not a control thing. I don’t want any of the master-slave shit that I know you think I want.” 

John tenses for a moment before puffing out his cheeks with a sigh, raising his eyebrows at you. “Okay fine. Fine, we can try it out but just this time. If I can even enjoy this while you’re _tied up_ , holy fuck…” He runs one hand through his hair nervously, which you ignore in favor of jumping him, covering him in grateful kisses. 

“Thank you, dude thank you, there are whole Shakespearean plays that could be written about how grateful my ass is to you right now.” You feel John smile and hug him tightly before pulling back, leading him by one arm toward the long-since-shared bedroom. “Thanks. Seriously.”

“I mean if it means that much to you, I can do it? I guess? But I am backing out if things turn weird.” John is hesitating in the doorway now, while you scuffle around the room.

“No, look, what I’m going to do is I’m going to grab– uh– shit, hold on–” You scan the floor distractedly; of course there isn’t anything suitable right when you need a good example. Finally you dart back up, triumphantly holding a wadded receipt and returning to John. 

“What I’m going to do is hold onto this fine little fucker. If you do anything that I’m not down with, I let go of it. See this way, you know something’s wrong, so sexy fun time doesn’t spiral into complete unholy chaos, but I still get to have the, you know. The gag. I was thinking we could use one of your ties?” You stand expectantly in front of John, suppressing a stupidly excited grin. 

John backs up, stuttering wildly. “Wait, no, things could go wrong?! What “things?” What are you even planning to– what!?” This time you can’t hold in your sigh as you drag him back into your room impatiently.

“It’s only for emergencies, holy dicks. I highly doubt you’re going to injure me, especially since we’re only tying my arms with this lame-ass belt I found and the gag won’t even be an actual gag.” you mutter, pulling the cloth belt you’d bought from under your bed. The thrift store really had some treasures if you just got inventive with them. “Calm down, this isn’t shibari or some shit.”

“What’s shibari,” John squeaks out. His eyes are wide, standing in sharp contrast to a now very pale face. The belt is instantly unimportant, and some part of you suddenly has to be touching him, bundling him into a tight hug and running one hand over his hair. 

“Hey, shh. It’s okay, man. It’s okay. We’re just testing it out, alright? Trial run before designating it part of normal sexy things. I’m not completely sure I’m even gonna like it, it’s not like I’ve done it in real life before. Just jive with me for this.” You drop your forehead to his shoulder, distractedly rubbing one thumb over the back of his hand. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I just– I just want to see what it’s like when I can’t touch you or talk the entire time. It sounds really hot, and you won’t even try it.” 

John pulls away, turning your face toward his. You must not have screwed things up too badly because he’s smiling again, a little shakily but still a smile. “Okay, I can tell this is important because you’re not looking at me. You never look at me when you’re actually being sincere, did you know that Dave?” 

“Mmhmaybe.” You flick your eyes away noncommittally, and now John’s smile is more like his normal grin, before he leans in to kiss your nose.

“I get it, this is a big deal for you. But what do I need to do?” 

You smirk and push him against the wall in response. “Well first,” you murmur, breathing your words over John’s lips, “we make out like we’re in high school again.” 

“I am very okay with that.” John grins at you, grabbing at your back and pulling you in for a kiss, and you gratefully cling to him, all of your limbs spidered around him. You trust John enough to risk some small closeness. He was safe.

John’s hands trail down your sides, starting to grope your ass and not being particularly shy about it. You both slowly mouth at each other’s lips for a while, eyes half-closed as John tightens his hands firmly around your hips. A slightly harder bite at John’s bottom lip draws out an appreciative moan, and he looks up fondly, very not-subtly pressing his crotch against yours. Luckily, the change in pace snaps you out of the pleasant trance you were falling into, and you clamber off John’s lap and over to the bed.

“Ok. Ok, let’s do this,” you tell him, looking at John confidently and stripping out of your clothes. An odd itchy feeling was running under your skin, but it wasn’t unpleasant; it only grew stronger as you picked the belt back up.

“Damn, you didn’t forget,” John mumbles as he hops onto the bed, stripping off his shirt and pants just as you sit down. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You lean back on your arms, displaying a decent boner and looking at John expectantly. “John.”

“What, Dave?” John’s eyes are still darting uneasily toward the belt in your hand, and he settles in front of you, waiting for you to move first.

“John. Are you prepared to duel?” 

“Dave, are you serious, that is not what you say to woo a gentleman. You are such a dork, oh my gosh.” Despite himself, John laughs, kneading his forehead in exasperation and shoving at your chest harmlessly.

“Shut up, it’s a serious question,” you pout, twisting behind yourself to grab lube and a condom from the nightstand. “How else will I know if you’re prepared to duel?” You toss the lube to John, flicking the condom to the side for the moment.

“Look, I’m already trying to take you seriously here with this whole tying-up thing, and you are not working with me at all. And take off the sunglasses.”

You whine ineffectually and toss your shades onto the nightstand while John wiggles out of his boxers. As you both shuffle back onto the bed, you stop, staring at each other. You inhale deeply, almost as nervous as John.

“Alright, let’s, uh, yeah,” you say haltingly, crawling toward him. You edge between John’s legs, darting hesitant glances at him until he finally huffs with impatience and pushes you onto your back. His eyes trail immodestly over your chest as he situates himself on your hips, and his hands follow, massaging your shoulders as he grinds himself onto your dick. You reciprocate immediately with an encouraging moan, jerking yourself up against John and almost starting a rhythm again before remembering the belt in your hand. 

“Okay. So what you do is take this belt and wrap it around my wrists, and just, well, you tie it. Nothing fancy, just a basic knot that’ll keep me from moving.” You seem to have less words than usual, and even you can hear how soft your voice is as you take John’s hands, folding them around the belt gently. You hold your wrists together in front of you, granting John a small turn of your lips in reassurance. 

John winds the belt around your wrists carefully, and you can tell he’s focusing on tying a good knot rather than what exactly he’s doing to you. As he finishes, you test your arms against the belt, finding it suitably tight and squirming into a sitting position. You lean in to kiss John rather more sweetly than usual, and whisper what might have been a “thank you” into his ear before lying down. “Look, I still have the receipt of ultimate power and everything. You can go ahead and– shit.” You forgot the gag. You flop back onto the bed, shaking your head in disbelief before humbly looking up at John. “Grab one of your ties, will you? I actually forgot the gag, how did I forget the gag.” 

John shoots you a dubious look, padding over to his underwear drawer awkwardly. “Dave, my boner is not going to survive this,” he says as he settles back on top of you with the tie in hand.

“So get to humpin’. This isn’t entirely about tying me up, man, there’s still supposed to be actual sex at some point and my dick’s not exactly feeling the love here either.” 

He acquiesces and speeds up, pushing himself against you, and fuck, you’re definitely hard. You drag your hips against him slowly, drawing a small moan from John. He has one hand fisted in the sheets and the other splayed over your chest, pressing you down as he begins to roll his hips enthusiastically. And you can’t hold him back. Not knowing how he would move sparked a bright thrum of excitement in the pit of your stomach, and John didn’t seem to mind the belt at all, at least not right now.

You let out a pleased hum, watching as John’s bangs dropped into his eyes. You have the sudden desire to smooth them away, and groan quietly as you tense your arms against the belt, pushing your hips toward John harder. 

“How are you?” You look up at him with mild concern, glancing at your tied wrists and returning to John’s face questioningly. 

“I’m good. Thanks,” he replies, smiling easily between breaths; he’d caught the question you hadn’t been able to voice. “But Dave, Dave I really want your dick. This is just–” he pants possessively, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, “–just great but it is not the same as the actual dick.” John presses his mouth over your flushed chest, muttering impatiently.

“That’s fucking awesome, but I can’t exactly– my arms,” you huff. You instinctively twitch your arms toward John, and have to bite off a moan when you’re reminded again that you can’t move.

“Come on Dave, I’m actually wanting to bottom today– and that is kind of your own fault,” he grumbled, straightening up on top of you skeptically. “Just let me undo those knots and we can do this without you being tied up.”

“No, c’mon, we’re already halfway there. If you want my dick so much it’s not that hard to get yourself ready like usual– and gimme the tie before you get all lube-y and gross.”

“Well if you would just let me _untie you–_!”

“John being tied was the entire point of this and you weren’t even complaining a minute ago, will you just gag me already?”

“NO!” He’s half-yelling, and you both drop silent immediately. You would stop touching him if he weren’t sitting on you, and settle for pulling your arms in front of you, a sad attempt at a safeguard. 

“John?” He bites his lip before speaking.

“Look. I’m– I’m liking this whole thing a little more than I thought. And I’m not really sure I’m okay with that.” He trails his hand so softly over the edges of the belt, not meeting your eyes. “I mean, I can touch you as much as I want, and you can’t do anything about it, which I like. A lot. But I don’t want– I don’t like forcing you to . . . Can we at least put in the, the gag once I’m prepped and everything?” 

He’s offering a compromise; you understand this. “Yeah, it’s cool. I- you still want to do this, right?” 

“Yeah! Yeah.”

You shift apart, neither of you wanting to break the tenuous silence. You lean back again and nudge the bottle of lube to him with one leg. John grabs it, and slowly spreads his legs apart, his back hunching over himself and turning him into a small warm ball. His expression is almost neutral as he works three fingers inside himself, one by one, moving in and out in gentle pulses. You watch. You’re panting almost silently, focused on his hand with half-open eyes, and the small patch of skin where your leg is touching his is hypersensitive. You can feel every infinitesimal twitch of his body like this, and it’s almost better than holding him.

After a few minutes, John is panting as well, breathy small sounds that had gotten louder as he moved his fingers, and your neck hurts from straining to watch. He leans back to hold himself up on one arm, brushing his free hand over his dick with a whine. You can tell he wants attention, but he calms down when you meet his eyes, holding his gaze for the space of two breaths.

“So you want me to get the…?” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He hesitates; the tie is balled in one hand, and he hurriedly shoves it around your mouth and head, muttering to himself. “This is an awful lot of responsibility for one measly receipt.” But he ties a quick knot next to your ear and sits back anyway, fumbling with the condom and ignoring your unimpressed looks. 

“Oh shut up, I know what I’m doing.” He rolls his eyes, smoothing the condom on and lining you up with him. John never breaks eye contact as he slowly works himself onto your cock with a quiet sigh, and you watch, because you love watching, you love seeing him do this. It just means you get to realize, for what has to be the hundredth time now, that John is beautiful, and you’re impossibly lucky.

“Gosh, Dave… Your arms look really nice when they’re all stretched out like this don’t they?” John shifts slightly, about to move in earnest. You make some small noise of assent through the fog of both of you panting hard, and actually roll your eyes and _moan_ when John finally, slowly, moves himself up. 

John is being grabby again now that you can’t stop him, but it’s the farthest thing from bad; all he seems to want is to wrap entirely around you. One arm curls behind your neck, the other wormed halfway under your back, and he’s moving steadily now, making soft happy noises that are pure pleasure. You smile briefly at the idea that John had really honestly wanted your dick.

You moan desperately. John feels– amazing, really, he always did, and your hands are achingly immobile. Clumsily, you move your arms over his shoulders, pressing him down and panting into the soft hair at the top of his heck. This was so much better than fantasies. This was warm and real, you could feel John’s hands running over you tenderly, and there were definitely going to be red marks on your wrists for a day or so and you liked it.

You could stop everything with one twitch of your fingers. But it was so much nicer to have John spoil you with sensation, to be forced to just feel. 

One soft, sweet kiss is pressed to the skin just above your heart, and you are suddenly pathetically close to coming. If you were paying attention, you would be more embarrassed about the quiet whining noises you’re making through your nose, but currently you only want to press yourself somehow closer, closer, and John, that wonderful bastard, realizes what was happening. He shoves your arms back over your head, grinning breathlessly until his laughing turns into moans and he practically clenches around you, trying to keep up.

You are almost lightheaded from breathing so fast, your hands are being pushed together roughly behind you and then John does this delicious rolling of his hips and nope, too late, you’re arching your back hard into the bed and whimpering your way through an incredible orgasm. 

The second you start coming down you settle for laying in a stupor, marveling at how well you’d just gotten off, but John isn’t done. He keeps moving, jacking himself off roughly and staring down at you with a dazed look that’s pure lust. He runs his free hand stupidly over your chest, onto your shoulder, mumbling to himself again. John always does this. He always starts babbling with complete sincerity right before he comes, and this time all you can do is listen.

“Wow, Dave wow, you look so nice, your neck is doing that thing where it turns all red you know, I can’t see your freckles anymore but that’s okay,” and his hand starts moving frantically as he puts all his weight on the arm trailing over you, like he’s going to touch all of you in the span of a few seconds. “Oh fuck– Dave, I just made you come, look at your, your lips, are you _drooling_ , oh gosh Dave–!–” 

John lets out the slightest whisper of a sigh. Trembling fingers stray over your lips, brushing the taut edges of the gag, and John is still looking down at you as he comes all over his hand, the expression on his face nothing short of adoration.

A few seconds later he pulls himself off your oversensitive dick, flopping next to you and grinning like an idiot. “Hey, that was awesome, wasn’t it,” he breathes.

You grunt. You still have a gag in your mouth, and your hands are starting to hurt now that you’re not amazingly turned on. With a muttered “whoops,” John sits up, his face shifting from a grin to something more unclear. He undoes the belt around your wrists, setting it aside silently before reaching toward the gag; one hand caresses your cheek as he unties it, slowly rubbing over the marks beside your mouth. 

You finally throw away the receipt. 

You roll your shoulders experimentally before reaching for the tissues. The used condom is peeled away, ew, and you quietly clean both of you with tingling hands before throwing the box off the bed as well. John has been leaning into your neck without a word. His forehead had pressed against your shoulder as you wiped cum off his stomach, from between his legs, and you weren’t so sure anymore that this had been a success.

Pulling John back by his shoulders, you decide to let your face be vulnerable and inspect his closely. “Was that okay.”

He looks up, blinking as though he’d forgotten you were in front of him before answering. “Huh? Yes. That was really super okay. Like the most okay I have had in a long time. I was kind of being a dick and didn’t listen to you but I– I really liked that, Dave.” He’s avoiding your eyes for some reason, and you need to fix that.

“No, shut up, I was the one experimenting here,” you sputter. “I didn’t think you’d actually like it. I was just expecting you to, y’know, put up with me. I mean, dude, I will gladly help you with any intense soul searching necessary if it means you’re sincerely down with this.”

“Okay but Dave, I wouldn’t have gone along with it if I hadn’t liked it. I just– liked it a lot more than I thought I would.” John rocked back on his heels pensively, and you pull him into your arms, smirking.

“I could tell. Gold star for acknowledging your turn-ons, you get a prize.” You kiss the corner of John’s mouth with more affection than heat, pausing before asking what you really want to know.

“…So does this mean this will happen again, at some point?”

“Well yeah!” John looks at you incredulously before turning a deep red. “I mean, yeah, of course. If you’re okay with that.”

Snickering, you take a deep breath and roll both of you over. “Any signs that I am not okay with that are practically nonexistent, John, that translates to a resounding fuck yes. Now hug me.” You sigh into John’s chest and pull the sheets over both of you, suddenly very tired.

“Okay.” John complies amiably, holding you close, and you curl against him; you definitely aren’t smiling into his chest. John mumbles something above you, half-asleep and already muffled in the sheets. 

“Mmhwhat?”

“No, just– I got you off.” You can feel John laughing softly.

“Shut _up_ you monumental turd. You got off just as hard, don’t even be mocking me.” You’re already drifting off, and John had decided to start lazily playing with your hair, which wasn’t helping. “I’ll make pancakes when we wake up, yeah?”

“I’ll make Cheerios.”

“Wow, only the finest gourmet for your beloved boyfriend, huh, John?”

“Shut up and sleep, Dave.”

“Love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think, I love comments and constructive critique keeps my heart pumping I have actually been a vampire for several months due to this


End file.
